


I Got the Sweetest Sadness I Ever Had

by jameee25



Category: Eyewitness (US TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, First Time, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-10
Updated: 2016-12-10
Packaged: 2018-09-07 17:43:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8810035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jameee25/pseuds/jameee25
Summary: It's Philip and Lukas' first time





	

**Author's Note:**

> This was written prior to 1x10, and by no means intended to replace the motel scene (had I known back than that they'd make Philip ride Lukas their first time i never would have dared touching that, PRAISE THE LORD)
> 
> Title is from The The's 'Dogs of Lust'

 

It doesn’t go as well as planned. Not that it _was_ planned, or that it’s any surprise to Lukas.

To either of them.

There are no scented candles, or rose petals, or any of the cheap artifacts teen girl magazines insist are a must. And maybe that’s the problem.

 It’s not like it was with Rose. The touches are not awkward, his hands are not fumbling, and his dick is so far from soft that he’d have laughed if the situation was even slightly funny. It’s like his body knows exactly what to do, where to touch, how to grind, his mouth on autopilot and his hands not far behind. It’s his mind that seems to refuse to get on with the program, and Lukas has only himself to blame.

He’s all too aware of their surroundings: the moldy tang of the hardwood floor in the attic, the music playing in the background – not from their playlist (and _Jesus_ , they have a playlist, a thought that makes his chest clench with a fuzzy mixture of warmth and dread) but something as equally mellow – Philip’s hands on him, tracing patterns on his back, dipping low to cup his butt, press him closer.

There’s a boy under him, a beautiful, fucking gorgeous boy, who’s smart and witty and amazing and soft, oh so soft, that Lukas can hardly believe it. _Almost_ _like a girl, right? You don’t even have to work that hard to pretend,_ his mind provides. But Lukas can’t. He won’t. And not just because of the hard evidence currently poking at his hip. He doesn’t want it to be a girl, and ain’t that just the fucking problem here?

“Lukas, stop. Stop, “

Philip’s tone is decisive, so different than the breathy moans he was letting out not a minute ago, and it’s only then that Lukas realizes that he stopped kissing Philip, stopped stroking him, stopped everything but the desperate rut of his hips.

“You’re not with me.”

“No, I– I am, I’m here–”  He manages to fumble out, suddenly feeling completely naked, even though he still has his boxers on.

“No. You’re not. And we don’t have to do this.” Philip sits up then, pushing Lukas away and leaning back on the headboard. Lukas can’t bring himself to look at him, cannot stand the thought of this boy’s – _his_ boy’s – sad eyes, not even for a second, knowing he screwed up yet again.

“Lukas. Hey. Lukas. Look at me.” He doesn’t though, pressing his eyelids shut, six-year-old Lukas, who won’t look at his daddy or any of his aunties when they told him she’s gone, not coming back, baby. She’s with Jesus now.

Way to fucking kill a boner.

“Lukas.” There’s a hand under his chin, tilting it upwards, and another at his hair, pushing away sweaty bangs.

“It’s okay, it’s okay, I promise.” A kiss to his brow. To his jaw. To his cheek. A warm thumb swipes over his cheekbone.

“It’s fine, I promise.” But it really isn’t. And Lukas knows that there’s a limit to the number of free passes he gets, to Philip’s patience, knows that there’s a clock ticking over his head and that real soon Philip is going to see right through him ( _oh, but he already does, right buddy?)_ and realize what a waste of time he is. See how much fucking better he can do than Lukas.

And what the fuck is he going to do then?

Philip’s hands don’t stop for a minute. They are all over Lukas’ body, traveling over his biceps, his head, his face. His soft, soft lips hardly move an inch from Lukas’ face, mapping them, sending reassuring wet snips of warmth, of trust.

It feels a lot like love.

Lukas opens his eyes slowly, ready to bolt if push comes down to shove. He doesn’t want to.

“We’re all good?” Philip almost whispers, and it takes Lukas a second to hear the uncertainty in Philip’s voice. He’s just as scared as Lukas, and he shouldn’t be. It hurts.

Lukas takes a deep breath, leaning his forehead against Philip’s shoulder, hand going to rest on his ribs.

In and out.

He kisses one pale clavicle. His fingers close around a slender wrist, and he brings it up, up, up to his mouth, pressing his lips against blue veins.

“You’re gonna show me what to do?” he asks, and it’s Philip that’s seems hesitant now.

Another kiss to that gorgeous wrist, and Lukas raises his head to finally look into Philip’s eyes.

“I want this. I want us. I just-“ Lukas tries to muster all his courage, and the moment is heavy, loaded, and full of fear and lust and things unsaid. To be or not to be. “Show me.”

He leans in for a kiss, trying to cork up his wandering mind, his anxiety, his shame. This is it. And he wants this.

“I will.” There’s absolutely zero teasing in Philip’s voice, and Lukas follows him to lie back down; their thighs slotted together, mouths still connected. It’s soft and unhurried, and Lukas lets his tongue explore Philip’s mouth, neck, chest.

His hands move as if they have their own will, pinching a nipple, poking into a belly button, sliding slowly over a crack. Philip ruts against him like a cat in heat, and Lukas can feel his cock, warm and so fucking hard, pulsing against him.

“I– Philip–”  He chokes out, and moves back a tiny fraction, only to look at the wonder that is Philip Shea. His thoughts are still a somber buzz in the back of his head, but he pushes them away, focusing his vision on one thing and one thing only.

It’s all there, as it was since the cabin, as it probably always was, the trust, the longing, the want, the epic necessity of what they have. Nothing in the world is better than this. Nothing is more important than this.

Philip grabs hold of his hand then, kissing his knuckles, licking over slender bones, and Lukas fights the urge to close his eyes. He needs to see this.

“Can you get the things?” Philip asks, and this earthly exchange shakes Lukas a little bit, but not enough to make his resolve crumble. He reaches blindly with his other hand, eyes still locked on Philip, afraid to lose it in case he disconnects from him. He comes back with a small tube and a string of foil wrappers. He knows exactly what they are, and he tries to regain composure and not think about the details. It’s gonna happen.

Philip pushes down his own briefs one handedly, and Lukas reaches out to help him. Surprise surprise, but Philip’s cock is just as pretty as the rest of him.

Lukas swallows.

Philip’s hand is at the waistband of his boxers, and he is so fucking grateful that he’s not expected to initiate anything, not just yet, that he lets out a shaky sigh of relief.  He’s more than willing to let Philip take the lead for the time being, even if there’s a little voice inside his head telling him to take care of his boy. He will. Just– not just yet.

There’s a warm hand palming at his cock. He’s not soft, not really, but the little scene he just pulled definitely deflated him a bit. It feels good, and he closes his eyes, trying to focus on the slip-slide of Philip’s hand on him, on his moist breath over his neck, his hard cock nestled in the juncture of his thigh and groin.

It’s time.

Lukas leans in for another kiss, not polite this time, or hasty. A kiss with tongue and teeth and spit and lips. _This_ he knows, this is his home field, and he’s trying to gain points, or his guts back – probably both – before it goes any further. It actually helps, and now Philip is making those sounds again, like he’s drowning. _Nononono, no drowning, never drowning,_ his mind provides. They’re little kitten whimpers, hardly audible gasps that go straight to Lukas’ dick.

And just like this, he’s all in.

He sends a tentative hand down, and takes hold of Philip’s cock.

Jesus fuck.

It’s less strange than he thought, but his movements are awkward. Could be the angle. But the needy mewl that comes out of Philip urges him on. They are still kissing when Philip’s hand joins Lukas’ on his dick, ever so gently, but after two strokes Philip pulls his face away, not far, just an inch. His lips are spit shiny, almost red from the kissing and biting, hint of a smile tugging at one end, but there’s no malice to it. He’s the most beautiful thing Lukas ever seen.

“C’mon,” he seems almost bashful, cheeks pink, voice low. Lukas kisses him again, just this one peck, and reaches out for the small tube ( _lube boy, it’s lube, and you better be fucking able to say it if you’re gonna do it, and it sure does looks like you’re gonna from here_ ) and tries to unscrew the cap one handedly. It’s not working. He can feel his palm sweating, his heartbeat racing, but it’s from all the wrong reasons. One look up, and Philip, sweet, gorgeous Philip, _his_ Philip, is smiling at him. He moves up, still half lying on top of him, but brings his other hand so he can open the damn thing.

“Dude, shit’s fucking cold, “

“Oh wow, Lukas. How thoughtful of you to mention it now, seeing it’s going up my ass in a minute.”

And this, this is easy. This is them. This he can do in his sleep.

“In a minute, huh? Pushy much?”

“Shut up, Jesus. I can’t believe I’m doing this with you–”

“Oh–” kiss, “You better believe it, baby–” kiss, “Because I’m definitely–”

Philip starts laughing then, a real, warm laugh, and something inside Lukas’ heart lights up like a fucking firework.

“God, we really have to work on your dirty talk,” Philip is still smiling, but he’s reaching over to pull Lukas by the neck for another kiss.

“You ain’t seen nothing yet, boy,” he half mocks, but Philip’s eyes go serious.

“Show me, then,”

For a moment he thinks he’s going to lose it again, gonna end it all there and then, let his anxiety and the nagging voice in his head (that alternates between sounding like Rose and even more terrifying, like his dad) win, but it’s pure determination that gets him to follow through with the motions ( _spit ‘n prayer son,_ and god, does the Bo in his head ever shuts up?).  He’s still turned on like hell, but he has to lower his gaze, terrified that this whole facade will crumble with one look into his Philip’s hopeful eyes.

“I thought you were going to show me,” he says, nuzzling against Philip’s jaw. Philip takes his hand again, the one that’s still half covered with the cold lube ( _atta boy!)_ , and kisses it. He pours some more on it and guides it down.

“I will,” Philip kisses Lukas again, and his hand, still holding Lukas’, is making its way down, and behind, and up. All the voices in Lukas’ head shut up. This is his virginity. It’s the first time for both of them, and Lukas _wants_. Philip is so fucking beautiful it hurts to look at him, and seeing the trust in his eyes makes Lukas’ heart double its rate. His sticky fingers are shaking, his cock is leaking, and he follows the trail over Philip’s balls, gives them an experimental tug, and moves down and back to his crease.

Philip is still holding his wrist, but it’s Lukas that does all the work now. His fingertip brushes Philip’s hole, and he bucks his hips up, spreading his legs wider like he couldn’t stop himself if he tried.

Oh.

He gets his other hand under Philip’s knee, pushing his leg up and to the side, and gets another purry keen in response. He presses his fingertips against Philip’s hole, rubbing the lube around it, not entering yet, but the way Philip parts his legs, and the sounds he keeps making make such a pretty picture, that Lukas just _has_ to get there.

He slowly slides the tip of one finger, up to one knuckle, inside of Philip.

Oh.

Philip moans again, louder this time, and Lukas is slipping his finger in further before pulling it out.

“Kiss me,” Philip says then, shaking Lukas from his trance-like state, and he obliges. Philip is so comfortable is his own body, kissing Lukas like he was born to do that. Maybe he was.

There is nothing, not a single thing in the world that can make him back away from this now.

One finger slowly turns into two, and they are setting up a rhythm, steady and gradual, but persistent. Philip is so fucking warm inside, and smooth and soft, and Lukas thinks his dick might explode if he won’t get in there soon.

“Can I–”  he pants, not wanting to spoil the moment, not wanting to scare Philip, or himself, not really sure what to say.

 “Yeah. C’mon, I’m ready,” Philip looks absolutely debauched, spread out naked on the bed. His knees are bent and he’s got his hands over his eyes, chest heaving like he’s just ran a marathon.

This is it.

Lukas lets out a shaky laugh and searches for the foil package on the bed, but Philip beats him to it. With eyelids torn wide with lust, fear, exhaustion, he watches as Philip rips open the condom wrapper with his teeth, and his heart almost gives out. So. Fucking. Beautiful.

Lukas closes his eyes for a second, afraid this sensory overload will push him over the edge, or worse, make him lose every bit of gall he still has left, and Philip rolls the condom over his dick.

Tick tock.

Every nerve ending in his body is on fire, and as he looks down at Philip, his expression so eager, so happy, handing out his heart and soul and body to Lukas, everything just for him. And he plans on taking it, goddammit. He bows his head for another kiss, trying to pour all the things he can't say into it. His fingers are still inside Philip, and he can feel his gaze resting on them, watching, fascinated as he pulls them out slowly. He reaches for his own cock then, hard enough to pound nails, and slicks it with more lube. It is cold, but right now Lukas is burning up.

"You're not bailing out on my now, are you?" Philip aims for a teasing jab, but it comes out more worried – at least to Lukas' ears – and he can't have that.

"Never," and he knows it's a lie, knows that he let this boy down more times that he cares to think about, more times then he deserves, but he intends to fix it, fix everything. Philip lets out a ragged breath and spreads his legs wider, grabs the back of Lukas' head and pulls him closer. Lukas pets his lips, then presses his fingers to them, soft and pink and worthy of all the adoration in the world. Philip must feel his hesitation, because he puts his hand on Lukas', holding at the base of his cock, and helps guide him inside.

There are no words for this. 

Philip lets out a deep, long sigh when Lukas finally breaches him, and Lukas is unable to look away from his face, needing to see how his delicate features flex with deep concentration, letting out shallow puffs of air, eyes squeezed tight. It's so good, and never in all his life has Lukas felt so complete than in this moment. He belongs, this is his place, this is what he's supposed to be doing.

Philip's heat is almost suffocating, clenching so tight around him, and fuck, Lukas is not going to make it. As he bottoms out, balls deep inside Philip, he allows himself a lungful of air. Jesus, it's all too much and they haven't even started.

"You okay, babe?" he asks, pet name escaping his mouth before he can stop it, but it doesn't seem like Philip minds. Quite the opposite.

 "Yeah, yeah, give me a sec," Philip breathes out, wiping sweat from above his lip. He kisses Lukas, fingers tangling in his hair, and lets out a noise that is halfway between a moan and a sob.

"Do it. Do me. Move," A small gasp escapes Lukas' lips then, and his head falls forward on his chest. Philip gently runs his fingers up and down his arms, his strained muscles, and Lukas falls in love all over again, awed by how even now, when he's the one that has the metaphorical reins, Philip is still the only thing keeping him together, in one piece, taking care of him. As the trembling in his body subsides, Lukas opens his eyes again and tilts his hips forward a little.

" _Oh_." He's almost surprised that he didn't shoot right then and there, because this is all too good to be true. He slowly buries himself deeper, and it's the most amazing sensation ever. He knows it hurts, it must hurt, and it seems almost unfair, to feel that much pleasure when Philip's probably not on the same page.  He tries to slow down, struggles not to thrust hard into the sweet boy under him. But it seems like Philip doesn’t really care. He rests a hand on Lukas' nape, face twisting to an almost tortured expression, and he's chanting Lukas' name like a mantra.

Dammit, he's not going to last.

He gathers Philip in his arms, and presses their mouths together, suddenly wishing for the voices to come back as he pushes out and then back in. As he shoves in, harder this time, Philip's hand grabs his ass, digging his fingernails into his skin, and arches up to meet him.

“Lukas,” he sounds like he's in pain, but his face is blissfully calm, eyes wide open, mouth slack, pink tongue darting out to lick his bottom lip. And Lukas feels like the luckiest sonofabitch in the world.

“You're– uh, you're in me.” His voice is full of wonder, of awe, of worship. It sounds a lot like _I love you._

Lukas lets out a jittery laugh.

“Yeah, yeah. Does it– it feel good?” He pushes in again, leaning down to kiss Philip's eyelids.

“Fuck, it hurts,” Philip gasps. “But it's you.” Lukas’ chest aches. “Touch me?”

Lukas reaches between them to take Philip’s dick in his hand, and the angle is still weird but his ego is sky high that moment, and he's desperate to make Philip feel good, to make him see what they're like together, to make him as delirious as Lukas is to be there, to be sharing it with him. He kisses him again, hips moving in a slow, steady rhythm. It feels incredible and he never wants it to end; he wants to always be connected to Philip like this.

“Not gonna last,” Lukas says. Philip just nods and pushes back a little harder against him. With each thrust Philip spreads his legs wider, and then a loud “Ah!” leaves his throat as Lukas hits a particular spot.

“Found it, baby,” Lukas half laughs as he tries to hit his boy's hot spot again, trying to keep him right there with him. But his pace is sloppy, and his brain is slowly melting through his ears, and he really, really doesn't think he can make it. His hand tightens around Philip's shaft as his orgasm hits him like a brick wall.

“Fuck, Jesus!” He lets out a loud cry as he shoots inside the condom, and buries his face in Philip's neck. His hips keep rutting, riding out the sensation, and Philip pets his back, sneaking tiny kisses to his hairline, his ear, his temple.

“Sorry, I'm sorry,” he mumbles to Philip's chest, coming down from the unbelievable high, shame and disappointment slowly making their way to his face.

“Shh, no babe, no,” Philips soothes and could he be more amazing than that? He reaches out and pulls Lukas so that their face are level, and smiles, big and genuine and so fucking gorgeous Lukas feels like crying.

“I'm kinda flattered,” he laughs, moving his hand through Lukas' now sweaty hair. Lukas grabs a hold of his other hand, bringing it to his lips, kisses his palm, his knuckles.

"That was… Philip, I– I want to make you feel good," he barely manages. Because what else can he say? I want you marry you? I wish you could have my children? And it's twelve-year-old Lukas now, kissing Tracy Lloyd behind the bakery, planning their wedding in his head. Wow.

Time to man the fuck up, he thinks as he slowly pulls out, flinching a little as the cold air replaces Philip's amazing heat, and isn't that ironic, considering what he's about to do. Philip stars at him in bewilderment as his lips makes their way down his chest, and Lukas reaches up to touch his cheek, looking into his huge doe eyes, before sliding down to take Philip in his mouth.

In and out. Not a girl. Have some fucking balls.

Pulling back, Lukas bites down on his lip hard enough to draw blood, then lets his tongue out to lick tentatively at the head of Philip's dick. Philip lets out a little moan at that, and Lukas becomes braver. He doesn't like the taste, but the feeling of Philip in his mouth, on his tongue, his pubes tickling his cheeks is more than enough to keep him going. He fucking loves it, who would've thought. The tiny noises of pleasure that Philip lets out from above him, these little grunts and whimpers, make his own dick twitch in interest again.

It’s messy and sloppy and Lukas keeps on gagging and pulling up with these little choked noises, but he doesn't stop. It’s his initiation ceremony. It's his baptism. And it feels like heaven. Philip is writhing underneath him, saying his name like a prayer, trying to shove at his shoulder, give him a little warning, but Lukas refuses to stop. He pulls back as the first spurt of Philip's come hit his tongue, knee jerk reflex more than anything else really, and uses his hand to finish him off, to work him through it, eyes never letting go of Philip's face, trying to memorize the moment, to have something he can file away as an achievement; he wants a cabinet filled with such achievements. Hell, he wants a room full of them, and knows it's still not half of what Philip deserves. His face must've given him away, because he hears a huffed giggle coming from Philip's mouth.

“What?” He says, can't keep the smile from his own lips.

“You _do_ like dick.”

And is there even a point in denying it right now? They both laugh, and Lukas makes his way up, pulls Philip to slot around his body, kissing his hair, his jaw, his face, anything he can get his lips on.

“Yeah,” he mumbles. “Guess I do.”

It's not the end and Lukas knows this. He's going to freak out the next morning, and maybe the day after that, and he probably won't stop acting like an asshole every now and then just because they're not virgins anymore ( _Ha_!). They're not going to fall into things easily; it's just not the way things work for them. But right now he doesn't care.

His toes are tingling and it feels a lot like love. Maybe he'll tell Gabe about it someday.

 


End file.
